


Of Wizards, Kings, and Frozen Peas

by mcgooglykins



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 13:26:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6986926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcgooglykins/pseuds/mcgooglykins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin doesn't realise he's, you know, THE MERLIN until he runs into Arthur in the Tescos frozen food aisle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Wizards, Kings, and Frozen Peas

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for a kink_meme back in, oh God, 2011. Translations for the scattered, basic Welsh at the end.

Merlin Emrys Jones had always led an ordinary life, which made sense really, because he had always been an ordinary sort of lad. He fully expected this trend to continue, all evidence pointing towards it. He lived with his mother, who was a florist. He was part-way through a BA in history at Swansea University, played rugby (decently, if you asked him, pretty terribly if you asked his best mate Will) on the weekends with his friends and worked at the Tescos on Morfa Lane three times a week for a bit of pocket money. Even his fairly unusual name never gave him much grief – his mother’s eccentricity having taken a patriotic turn, was, therefore, completely forgivable.  
  
“Ysgusodwch y fi," Merlin said to the young man currently letting all the cold out of the freezer, “but I have to get in there to stock all these peas.” He gestured at the stock trolley he was pushing, stacked high with 1kg bags of tiny, frozen green vegetables.  
  
“I’ll only be a minute,” said the man, not turning around. He was tall, blond, athletic, had an English accent, and was currently making a rather dismissive gesture with his hand. “I’m just making up my mind.”  
  
“Well you’ll have to make up your mind over my shoulder,” replied Merlin, a little rankled by the cavalier attitude of this stranger, and he manoeuvred his trolley close enough to the freezer, forcing the other man to move if he didn’t want his toes run over.  
  
“Excuse you!” spluttered the customer, “Are you blind as well as stupid? I was _standing there_!”  
  
“I’ve got to get them away before they defrost, see, “ said Merlin cheerfully, kneeling down and shoving packets into the freezer in a moderately organised fashion, “otherwise they won’t be as fresh, and they’ll refreeze all lumps, butty.”  
  
“But _what_?”  
  
“Slang for friend,” Merlin explained, rolling his eyes and trying to stop his teeth from chattering. “That was my little attempt to keep the tone of this conversation light so that I can finish as quickly as possible and get on with the rest of my job in peace.”  
  
“Your work ethic is commendable,” said the other man, “and I’ll be sure to mention it to your manager when I make a complaint about your behaviour.”  
  
Merlin sighed and stood up, dusting ice off his cold jacket, as the man continued berating him. He wasn’t too worried about getting into trouble from his manager – Gaius would be stern enough at the time, should this gent stick around, and tell him to be nicer in future. He’d probably make some comment about how Merlin’s mother raised him with manners and maybe Merlin should look in the milk room in case he left them there accidentally, but by Sunday he’d be re-telling the story as a joke over the roast potatoes. Besides which, Mrs Davies the Bakery was pretending she wasn’t trying to eavesdrop (mostly deaf now, poor dear), and she liked Merlin. If worse came to worst, Merlin could always call on her to defend him – which would be shameful, getting a little old lady to fight his battles, but everybody (and especially Gaius) was kind of terrified of her.  
  
It was knowing that Mrs Davies was watching, and possibly also an innate inclination to mischief, that spurred Merlin on to take off his gloves, turn around and offer the other man his hand to shake and say “Merlin dw i. Merlin Emrys Jones, that is, and my official job is Service Assistant, although occasionally I help out with the stock boys as well, like I’m doing now. For when you make that complaint, see. Mae’n dda gwrdd â chi!”  
  
The other man stopped short. He stared down at Merlin’s offered hand incredulously, and Merlin could see the tips of his ears turning red with anger. “I’m not shaking your hand,” he said incredulously, “We are not friends, and I don’t appreciate you speaking to me like – “ his eyes met Merlin’s for the first time and he stopped short again.  
  
“Oh,” he said.  
  
Somewhere in the distance – or at least he thought it was the distance, he couldn’t be certain – Merlin thought he heard a dragon’s triumphant roar. It was mostly drowned out, however, by a cacophony of sound in his brain. Chimes, voices, the rushing wind and possibly even a harp swirled louder and louder, deafening, maddening until – silence, everything disappeared into a point of stillness inside Merlin, in the very centre of his being. It felt like something slotted into place, the universe gave a collective sigh. Merlin was left standing there with his arm still stuck out, grinning like a loon, his expression mirrored in the other man’s – in _Arthur’s_ face.  
  
“I think,” said Merlin, his voice sounding strangely distant and unfamiliar, “that we might have had this conversation before.”  
  
Arthur grinned even wider and gently grasped Merlin’s hand, not shaking it, just holding and not letting go. “For once, Merlin,” he said, “you might just be right.”  
  


***

  
  
There were both good and bad things about suddenly remembering you were THE Merlin and Arthur, and not just any old Merlin and Arthur that happened to be hanging about in the frozen vegetable aisle. For one good thing, those peas were about to stock themselves, because Merlin was damned if he was going to stick his head back in that freezer and get icicles on his nose again if he didn’t have to. For another, he and Arthur had a lot of catching up to do, and if he remembered correctly – and yes, yes Merlin most _definitely_ remembered correctly, dragons and swordfights and all – then that part was going to be a lot of fun.  
  
The bad part was that Merlin was still _Merlin_ , and he still had three hours of his shift left to go. Mrs Davies was staring at them oddly now, too.  
  
“Sire,” she croaked out, and feebly attempted a curtsy. For someone who looked about three thousand years old, she did a fairly good job of it, till Arthur dropped Merlin’s hand and hurried to stop her, insisting that that really wasn’t necessary, before turning to Merlin – who was now looking a little wild about the eyes, truth be told – and asking (demanding, really, this was Arthur after all) what the hell was going on.  
  


***

  
  
Gaius was out the front of the store, counting out one of the registers.  
  
“Gaius!” Merlin said, “Gaius, can – “  
  
“Merlin, Arthur, can’t you see I’m busy?” Gaius growled, dropping a handful of 50p coins back into the tray, “Now I’ll have to start again. I might not have a title but I refuse to jump to whenever either of you – which means _you_ , Arthur – says boo. Other people have important jobs too, you know.”  
  
Merlin waited expectantly. It didn’t take long. Gaius started and blinked owlishly at both of them, muttered “Iesi Grist,” and Merlin nodded.  
  
“People keep _bowing_ at us,” Merlin hissed, as Arthur waved awkwardly to a group of rather deferential mothers doing their weekly shop. “Can I off early? Os gwelwch yn dda?”  
  
Gaius nodded, and before any overly-excited teenagers could waylay them, Merlin was dragging Arthur through the car park and down the street to where he’d parked his car.  
  
“We can hide out at my mam’s,” Merlin said as he started the engine, “who, yes, before you ask, is still the same person but a little more modern and outspoken, which fits, I suppose, I mean we’re all a bit more modern although I don’t necessarily think I am any more or less outspoken than I was, am normally, ever are, whatever, but I just – “  
  
“Merlin,” said Arthur, “please shut up.”  
  
Merlin blinked, then grinned. “You said _please_.”  
  
Arthur folded his arms across his chest defensively. “I may have learnt some extra manners this time around, what of it?” he said gruffly, as Merlin beamed at him from the driver’s seat.  
  


***

  
  
Merlin was happy to stay cwtched up with Arthur on the couch in his tiny reception room for an indefinite period of time, talking and touching and playing with each others hair and getting reacquainted with no rush, but sadly he’d forgotten one thing – that this was his mother’s day to come home early.  
  
“Merlin?” Hunith called down the corridor, concerned, “Dw i’n cefn. Pam wyt ti’n catre? Wyt ti’n sâl?” and then, before Merlin could answer – ‘Whose coat’s that jacket? MERLIN, IF YOU’RE PLAYING TRUANT FROM WORK I SWEAR I’LL – “  
  
“Give her a minute,” Merlin said to Arthur, who despite being a brave and powerful warrior, and the greatest King the nation had ever seen, had always been slightly afraid of Hunith when she was mad. “She’ll see you and it’ll all be fine. Just sit quietly and accept any and all cups of tea she offers you. Like always.” Arthur looked sceptical, but did as he was told.  
  
“THE MOMENT GAIUS ASKS ME HOW YOU ARE I’LL – “ Hunith burst through the door, and like every time he was in trouble for whatever reason, Merlin marvelled at how one tiny woman could contain such a tower of rage. Unlike every other time he was in trouble, though, Merlin just sat there smiling sweetly as this inexplicable ball of _You are going to get it young man_ stopped mid-sentence, gaped, and blessed herself.  
  
“So, Mam,” Merlin said, “This is Arthur and he’s – “ but he didn’t get to finish.  
  
“I can see that,” Hunith interrupted him, “What are you doing sitting all the way over there you stupid boy, get up here and give me a hug!” She pulled Arthur up off the cushions and into a hug, which Merlin could see Arthur pretending that he was tolerating (but secretly enjoying). “Oh bach, you’re all skin and bones!” she remonstrated, which made Merlin giggle into his hand because, while Arthur was clearly not quite as toned as he was long ago, he certainly wasn’t going to waste away any time soon. “and Merlin here hasn’t offered you even a drink, has he now?”  
  
“No he hasn’t.” Arthur said, flashing Merlin a cheeky grin, and Merlin glared in return. “He never thinks of that sort of thing. I’d really have liked a cup of tea, too.”  
  
“Don’t you worry bach, I’ll put the kettle on now. Merlin can grab you the biscuits in the meantime, and I’ll put dinner on. You’ll be staying, won’t you?” Arthur nodded. “There’s a good boy,” Hunith said, patting him on the cheek and bustling out to kitchen.  
  
“What?” said Arthur, smirking, as he turned to face a scowling Merlin. “Weren’t you going to get me biscuits before I _starve_?”  
  
“I had forgotten how terrible a person you really are.” Merlin grumbled, but got up to fetch the tin anyway.  
  


***

  
  
Merlin had one day where life was nothing but sunshine and happiness (except for when it rained, when it was precipitation and happiness). He skipped his classes (much to his mothers displeasure) in favour of spending time with Arthur, and Gaius was forced to let him off his shift because queues started forming when he tried to stack a shelf, people lining up to ask for help with this or that, problems they decided that only magic could solve. But it was too good to last really, and Merlin really felt he should have predicted this somehow, when he opened to door the next morning to grab the milk and was blinded by the flash of so many bulbs.  
  
“Right.” said Merlin, and shut the door.  
  
“They’ll go away eventually,” said Arthur a few hours later, peeking through the front curtain. “They’ll get, I don’t know, hungry or something. Or maybe that dragon will come and eat them all. Do you still have a dragon?”  
  
Before Merlin could think of something biting and witty in response, Hunith stuck her head round the door frame. “Phone for you, cariad,” she said. “Some English fellow. He seems to think he’s very important.”  
  
“Shw mae?” Merlin said, picking up the handset, “If you’re after an interview I’ve already told you, you can go and - “  
  
“No, no, Mr Jones,” came the voice down the line, “I can assure you I am not after an interview. My name is Mr. Cavendish and I am calling on behalf of the Prime Minister.”  
  
“If he’s after a quick magic fix, the answer is no,” Merlin said firmly. “He’s got to learn to deal with his own problems. If Arthur can learn, so can he.”  
  
“The Prime Minister wishes to meet with you and Mr. Pendragon,” Cavendish said. “A situation has arisen, and he believes it is in the nations best interest that you be made aware. We’ll be sending a car, and you will be briefed on how to conduct yourself during the visit.”  
  
“What, just to meet the Prime Minister?” Merlin asked. Arthur had turned away from the window and wasn’t even pretending not to eavesdrop any more.  
  
“No, Mr Jones,” Cavendish explained. “For when you meet Her Majesty the Queen, who will also be involved in this process. Everybody who meets with a member of the royal family is briefed about behaviour protocol.”  
  
“Excuse you,” Merlin said incredulously, “but I think you’ll find that I know exactly how to behave around royalty. I am _rather experienced_ in that area, and Arthur doesn’t need it either for blindingly obvious reasons.”  
  
“I do not make the rules, Mr Jones,” Cavendish sighed, “I am simply informing you of the arrangements that have been made. The car should be there by one o’clock in the afternoon, and the Prime Minister is expecting you by no later than five, so I suggest you cooperate with the staff and be as prompt as possible. I look forward to meeting you both, Mr Jones. Good day.”  
  
Merlin said one or two rude things to the phone in his hand when Cavendish had hung up. “He’s sending,” he explained to Arthur and his mother, both of whom were hovering nearby, “a car to take us to meet the Prime Minister. AND someone to give us both - _us both, Arthur_ \- lessons on how to behave around royalty. Apparently we’re meeting the Queen as well.”  
  
“Good God,” said Hunith, “What a to-do! I wonder what they want you for?”  
  
“Well,” said Arthur. “Make sure you pay attention when the nice servant is trying to teach you manners, Merlin.”  
  
“If you keep that up I will never sleep with you again,” Merlin threatened. “Similarly, if somehow a stupid plumed hat is involved in all this fuss, I will set it on fire. These are my ground rules.”  
  
Merlin’s mobile went off in his pocket.  
  
“Really?” Arthur said to Hunith as Merlin fumbled to answer in time, “ _That_ is his ringtone?” Hunith just nodded sadly. Merlin resisted the urge to make rude gestures - after all, his mother was around.  
  
“Hey Will,” he began. “What’s - “  
  
“If I am raped or pillaged or my thatch is set fire to,” Will said, “I will beholding you personally responsible. Because I can say with ninety nine percent certainty that this is somehow your fucking fault, butty.”  
  
“What? What are you talking about?”  
  
“Turn on your telly,” Will demanded, “but not before you let me inside. I’m at the back - did you know your garden is covered in reporters?”  
  


***

  
  
“Are those _vikings_?” Merlin asked incredulously, staring at the live newsfeed. “I’m not twp in the head, am I?”  
  
“Yes they are vikings, and yes you are,” said Will. “Now what did you do?”  
  
“I didn’t do anything!” Merlin protested. “At least, not that I know of. They’re probably after Arthur. They’re _always_ after Arthur, whoever they are. Why would they be after me? I am universally adored. In all of my many lives, if there has ever been a madman or group of madmen wielding sharp pointy objects, they’ve always been after Arthur.”  
  
“Don’t blame me now,” said Arthur, “I was minding my own business until I was rudely accosted by a disrespectful idiot wielding a trolley of frozen peas.” He took a sip of the tea Hunith kept plying him with in this horribly pretentious manner he’d affected two lifetimes ago and had apparently never shaken off. “At least now we know why the Queen wants to see us.” he added as an after thought.  
  
“I hope she offers you up as a sacrifice,” Will said.  
  
“I am going to conscript you to the army in Operation Human Shield,” Arthur threatened. “Can I still make people join the army? Do I have an army?”  
  
“Are you two ever going to get on?” Merlin asked.  
  
There was a resounding chorus of ‘no’.  
  


***

  
  
“Oh God, not you again,” Arthur said when Morgana walked in the room, dressed in a severe and frighteningly fashionable business suit that probably cost more than Merlin’s car. “You don’t get to lecture me on how to talk to some poxy substitute queen.”  
  
“Actually I do,” said Morgana smoothly, shaking hands with Hunith and kissing Merlin on the cheek, businesslike. “And if you give me cheek I will turn you into a toad.”  
  
“Yeah, no, none of that now.” said Merlin. “Seriously. Don’t.” He tried to look menacing and serious and like he meant it, which was a bit difficult because he could remember entertaining that very thought himself on several occasions.  
  
“She won’t,” said Gwen, who was apparently Morgana’s PA or something now, and had previously been standing at the door attempting to shoo away reporters from the Daily Mail. “But there’s no telling what terrible things I will do to you if we’re late. Car. Now, please.” Gwen could be very forceful when she wanted to be. “Lovely to see you again, Hunith.”  
  


***

  
  
“You probably shouldn’t have done that,” Arthur observed calmly, watching as several reporters flailed about on the bitumen, cars and motorbikes suddenly and inexplicably replaced by hobby horses.  
  
“You learn something new every day,” Merlin sniffed, “and today I learnt that I don’t fancy being chased by paparazzi down the motorway.” He turned and waved at the struggling figures as they got smaller and smaller.  
  


***

  
  
“Vikings.” said Arthur, staring at the Prime Minister.  
  
“So it seems,” David Cameron replied. He had a vaguely harassed look about him, like a man who had suddenly realised that the policies he’d campaigned with and been elected for hadn’t included Viking Invasion, and this oversight was about to come back and bite him in the arse.  
  
“But we didn’t _have_ vikings.” Arthur said, calmly. “I’ve never upset a viking in my life - “  
  
“Yes you have,” Merlin interrupted. “In that tavern, with Gwaine.”  
  
“Which Tavern with Gwaine?” Arthur demanded, “There were _rather a lot_ of them.”  
  
“If you hadn’t drunk so much, you’d probably remember.” Merlin replied in a sing-song voice. “You both made fun of his helmet. Then he punched you both in the face a lot until you passed out. Gwaine thought it was a right laugh.”  
  
“And where were you when this was happening?” Arthur demanded. “Weren’t you supposed to, oh, I don’t know, _help me_?”  
  
“You didn’t need my help being punched in the face.” Merlin fiddled with the model of a tiny ship that was sitting on the map in front of him, just like in every movie he’d ever seen. He toyed with the idea of using his magic and making it a proper working miniature, with tiny sails that blew in an imaginary wind, and even tinier vikings rowing as hard and fast as their arms could go. He decided against it. Queen Liz kept shooting him funny looks as it was. “Besides,” he continued, “I was busy. Elyan and Leon were arm wrestling and Percival and I had to make sure they didn’t cheat.”  
  
“Let me understand,” The Queen spoke up “My country is being invaded and my people are in peril because you couldn’t behave yourself in a manner befitting your then station in life?”  
  
“Probably,” Arthur admitted. “Though I’m clearly not to blame because I remember none of this. But let’s just assume this is what happened, and you can stop looking at me so disapprovingly, _Liz_ , because you have clearly never met or gone drinking with Gwaine.”  
  
“Perhaps we should get back to the matter at hand...” Mr. Cameron suggested smoothly, before things could get so out of hand that the tea service was thrown about or somebody ordered a beheading.  
  
“Yes, yes.” said Arthur, narrowing his eyes one final time at the Queen, who curled her lip disdainfully in response. “I’ll take my knights down to the beach to meet them. We’ll send them away or chop them into bits or Merlin will turn them all into tuna and we’ll have them on sandwiches for lunch. Either way it will get sorted, just leave it to me.”  
  
David Cameron blinked.  
  
“Dw i ddim yn hoffi tiwna,” Merlin mused. “Or any fish, really.”  
  
“I never understand a word you say,” Arthur sighed. Merlin translated.  
  
“Do you prefer _lamb_?” Arthur smirked. “Maybe some _mutton_?”  
  
“Go on,” Merlin said flatly. “Make that joke. Make that joke and you just see if I stop any vikings from chopping certain supercilious, condescending, poncy blond pommy clotpoles into pieces small enough for me to use as fertilizer for the _green green grass of home_.”  
  
“Empty threats,” Arthur said confidently, “You love me too much to let that happen.” and turned back to the Prime Minister and the Queen. “So, I’ll need my knights. Where are my knights?”  
  


***

  
  
“So, why are we all here again?” Percival asked, looking tall and imposing and kind of out of place in his pristine naval uniform.  
  
“The Vikings are going to land here,” Arthur explained. “Merlin’s told the people who think they’re running this country that it’s my fault, and you are my knights. Therefore it’s up to us to fix things. What part of this is confusing to you?”  
  
“You know, I have a desk job.” Lance said. “Like, I’m in the army, but I sit at a desk all day doing desk things. I’ve forgotten how to use one of these and I’m almost one hundred percent sure nobody does any more anyway.” He wiggled the sword Arthur had given him for emphasis.  
  
“Muscle memory,” Arthur gritted his teeth. “It’ll all come back to you.”  
  
“It’s a bit nippy,” Elyan started to complain, but Arthur shut him up with a ferocious glare.  
  
“My wife is going to be really mad if I’m late for dinner tonight,” Leon protested.  
  
“Look,” said Arthur, “when the Vikings get here I’ll ask them nicely to go away and if they don’t agree to that just hit them a lot until they give up and go home, okay? Whether you all get home in time for dinner or not is up to you. The harder you hit, the sooner you can go home.”  
  
The Viking ship came closer. Merlin fidgeted. He’d figured out years and aeons ago that, so long as he was there with his magic, he didn’t really have to worry about if Arthur or anyone would get hurt, so all the tension and the worry had been taken out of waiting for battle to start, and it was just really boring. Besides, Elyan was right - it was nippy.  
  


***

  
  
In the end, the battle was a bit of a let down. The head viking, a giant hulking bear of a man named Jörg, had leapt dramatically onto the beach and demanded justice for insults to his culture, his mother, and his face. Arthur had tried to explain that what happened when he was drunk _really wasn’t his fault_ , which as an excuse went over as well with Jörg about as well as it always had with Merlin. Jörg and Arthur had started fighting, and then all the other vikings had leapt out of the boat and the knights had joined the fray as well - although with a little more reluctance (except on Gwaine’s part, because these were terrible odds and he still loved that sort of thing. Merlin made a mental note to get him a psych evaluation or something when this was all over). Three minutes after that, Merlin had had enough, and hoisted everybody six feet into the air to get their attention.  
  
“See, boys,” he said, “this is how it’s going to work. I don’t know or really care about you, but I’m currently wasting the frighteningly large tuition I pay by missing classes at my university, because I’m here, in the cold and the wet watching you lot beat each other to a bloody pulp with embarrassingly phallic-like weaponry. Dw i’n diflasu. So what you’re going to do is shake hands, say you’re sorry - all of you - and then Jörg, you can take Sven and Erik and the rest of them home and we’ll forget this ever happened.”  
  
“Merlin,” said Arthur, pained, “that’s really not the way this is done.”  
  
“Well it is now.” Merlin said. “Shake hands or I’ll call Morgana and let her turn you all into toads.”  
  
Begrudgingly, everybody did as they were told. Arthur sulked as the viking crew got back into their boat and sailed away, and then the knights went to the pub (with strict instructions not to let Gwaine get too drunk and dance on the tables) while Merlin and Arthur reported back to the Prime Minister and the Queen.  
  
“I am so glad,” said Her Majesty, “and I trust that you shall not endanger my subjects with your irresponsible behaviour again.”  
  
Arthur only didn’t get himself arrested for more irresponsible behaviour right then and there because Merlin might have been practicing his magic again and maybe, just maybe, Arthur could neither move nor speak beyond an obliging nod and a quiet ‘Of course, Ma’am.’ Arthur might get mad at him about it later, but Merlin had just got Arthur back and didn’t feel like conjugal visits at the local prison were really romantic enough for getting properly reacquainted.  
  


***

  
  
The Vikings never invaded again, but Gwaine did end up dancing on the tables. With Leon. With alarming regularity, and sometimes in drag. The knights were all pulled out of their previous jobs and formed an elite task force, which Arthur headed up, whose job it was to defend Britain from Dark Forces, whatever those may be. Arthur and the Queen never ended up getting on, which was to be expected, because really Arthur had been raised an only child and had never learnt to share properly. Morgana never got to turn anybody into a toad, though she was always threatening, because Gwen was always there looking disapproving and motherly and really, nobody had ever learnt to say no to her yet and Merlin began to suspect that nobody ever would. As for Merlin and Arthur, well. Not everybody gets a Happy Ever After, but then again not everybody is the greatest wizard of all time, or the Once and Future King. Life tends not to get in the way of people like that. It knows better.

**Author's Note:**

> Welsh Translations:
> 
> 1\. Ysgusodwch y fi = Excuse me  
> 2\. Merlin dw i = I'm Merlin  
> 3\. Mae’n dda gwrdd â chi = Pleased to meet you  
> 4\. Iesi Grist = Jesus Christ  
> 5\. Os gwelwch yn dda = Please  
> 6\. cwtched = cuddled  
> 7\. Dw i’n cefn. Pam wyt ti’n catre? Wyt ti’n sâl? = I'm back. Why are you home? Are you sick?  
> 8\. bach = Small. Used as an affectionate term for children.  
> 9\. cariad = love.  
> 10\. Shw mae? = How are you?  
> 11\. twp = stupid/daft/crazy  
> 12\. Dw i ddim yn hoffi tiwna = I don't like tuna  
> 13\. Dw i’n diflasu = I'm bored


End file.
